An Awfully Big Adventure
by SarahJToner
Summary: Its 1999, Years after Peter's adventure with Wendy. Now, a New York girl who suffers from an anxiety disorder finds herself on a similar boat when a beastly storm sends an injured Peter Pan crashing through her bedroom window. Action, Romance, Adventure.
1. Out of the Rain

Okay I'm going to [Try and fail] keep the intro short and sweet. This is my first Peter Pan fic…In fact it's my first time writing a story period, so please forgive the poor paragraph format, spelling, grammar, and any other mistakes that an actual talented writer would cringe at. I'd just really like to see what I can do.

A few things:

My Peter Pan is based on Jeremy Sumpter from the 2003 Peter Pan movie. I felt he fit the part perfectly so that's what I envision my Peter looking like (except maybe a little bit older..a year at most.) Also, I'm going to go ahead and say my story takes place after all the events in the 2003 movie because I have yet to read the actual book, but I intend to soon! :)

There may be some weird things that could offend readers in this story but please be open with me about it, it will take a few chapters before it gets mature anyway, so at least enjoy till then!

This intro is longer than I had hoped but one last thing! My first chapter is simply a setting. Its short and I apologize for that but I was using it to test the posting on this site and how to do it and such. Next chapter is being worked on and should be up soon—and be better! PLEASE read and review so I know whether to keep going!

- Sarah.

All characters aside from my OC are the brilliant work of J.M. Barrie (Hope I spelled it right!) i hope he doesn't mind my using them! 3 On with the story!

Also, real quick, my OC character's name is pronounced Ah-muh-lee hellenuh Bawk-munn. Amalie Helene Bachman. (Sorry mispronunciation of names bug me. :P)

**New York City, New York. February 1999**

There was a nasty storm raging outside in the night as Amalie Helene Bachman scribbled absently on a scrap piece of paper at her desk, letting the sounds of thunder and angry rain against her window lull her into a state of sleepiness. She adored storms.. They drowned out the sounds of the city and made for wonderful relaxation. The clock struck 7:30 as her heavy head started to roll forward in a near doze when there was a soft knock at her door. She didn't bother answering; she knew her mother or father would walk in anyway.

"Amalie?" The voice of her mother sounded through the door, soon followed by a wave of perfume that invaded her room as she slowly entered.

"Hm.?"

"I just wanted to say goodnight before heading out. Have you taken your medicine?"

"Oh… Not yet.." Amalie hopped off the chair and stretched as she passed her mom, heading into the bathroom to grab her pill bottle."

"Honey, I know it's new, but you can't start forgetting to take those, they are expensive and they won't work if you start missing days. Plus the doctor trip will have been a waste of time, and your father already thinks it was."

That came as no surprise to Amalie. Her father was a stern and tough man. But not unkind.

"Yeah, I know..I'm sorry"

Amalie had suffered from a strong anxiety disorder since she was little. Panic attacks were the worst of it but as she grew older they started to become more and more frequent. Her father was finally convinced by her mother to schedule a doctor's appointment after a really nasty attack left Amalie crying and shaking in the girl's locker room during PE. Amalie was still rather embarrassed about that, the gawking faces of her startled peers burned in her memory.

Her mom wrapped her arms around her daughter from behind and hugged her gently as she finished off the cup of water that chased her little pill. "Have you noticed any improvement?" her mother asked. "I don't know, it's only been a week but I haven't had any spells so—""Nancy, we have to go!" Amalie turned and hugged her mother properly after her father's call put an end to their discussion. He had a business dinner to attend with his managers and according to his stressed tone, was running a bit behind schedule. It seemed there was a possible promotion hanging in the air, and her father was more than eager to snatch it.

"Love you mom, have fun."

"You too, darling, don't stay up late! Brush your teeth! Oh, and don't miss the 7:00 bus again! Another tardy and your dad will find out if the school decides to complain!"

Her mother flashed a brilliant smile before turning and heading down the stairs. Amalie took a few moments to admire her departing mother. Her long fitted gown the color of lilacs and her red curly hair loosely piled on top of her head in a fashion that was just her mother's. She was gorgeous and certainly a big help to her father's image when he attended these business gatherings.

To Amalie's slight disappointment, she looked just like her father. With her prominent German nose and dark brown hair that fell sleek and straight to her lower back. No curls or body to it.. At least not much. Her skin was clear but shockingly white and her eyes were a very pale green and very large; giving her a look of childlike innocence even though she recently celebrated her 16th birthday. She was also pretty short, not much over 5'4", and her body was on the small less curvy side. All in all, though she had a fair amount of male admirers at her school, she felt she would have way more if she looked like her mother. Genetics were a bitch.

With that last thought, she turned back towards the mirror and examined herself, grabbing a brush and working out a few tangles before brushing her teeth. The wind was howling and she could hardly hear the car leaving her driveway. Luckily, her father was an excellent driver in storms, so she figured they would make it there okay, despite Mother Nature's wild mood.

After finishing her nightly bathroom routine she slipped into some small sleep shorts and a tank top, grabbed her cell phone, and plopped onto her bed. She stretch widely and groaned a little as her muscles relaxed against the plump mattress, sleep already tugging at her eye lids. She was almost dozing off when a buzz from her phone made her flinch. She rolled over lazily and grabbed her cell, her eyes squinting from the light as it blared through the darkness revealing its notification to her. "Yes!" She whispered, her heart jumping a bit as she saw that it was the very first text from her crush of nearly 2 years. "Kase.."

Kase Anthony was a deliciously beautiful boy at her school. He was usually surrounded by popular girls and his fellow soccer team mates who were happy to stay snug up his butt 24-7. Amalie didn't mind admiring his glory from across rooms, and imagining what she would do if he ever looked over and smiled at her or called her in the hallway. She didn't really know whether he would turn her down or not, but the fact that she would have to make her way to him through hotter more voluptuous fangirls made her stomach turn over. She shyly remained on the outskirts and sneaked glances at him, smiling with everyone else as he displayed his extreme charisma in every class—hoping for a reason to speak to him one day.

Unfortunately that day took its time arriving, two years to be exact, but by the pitying grace of some higher force, she was assigned to be his lab partner for the month of February; her stomach doing somersaults when her teacher read the new seating charts.

Though she expected as much, her feelings were still a bit stung when he didn't recognize her and had asked her name after pointlessly introducing himself, unaware of just how well she already knew him and how long she had know him for. But he treated her nicely thereafter, always cracking silly jokes and doing his share of their work exceptionally well.

It was like a dream.

She finally stuttered out a request to exchange numbers so they would be able to meet up and work on their upcoming science project. He lightly agreed with a smile, not seeming to take notice of her flaming cheeks and moronic stutter.

She held her breath as she read the text. '_hey amaly. its your lab partner. What do u say 2 next wknd for the project? :)_'

Amalie giggled out loud at the misspelling of her name and felt her stomach flutter with excitement. She had to take a deep breath to calm herself before deciding on what to text back. She didn't want to sound pathetically eager.

At that moment, two things happened. The loudest clap of thunder she had heard all night slapped her eardrums, causing her to jump, her phone slipping from her hand and casting its screen light through the darkness and towards her window. Not 3 seconds later, the large window flew open as if hit and was followed by a figure flying in, briefly illuminated by the light of her phone, before crashing into her carpet with a distinctly male "OOF!" and rolling a few more feet until it was enveloped by the dark corner of her room.

As the figure remained cloaked by night's shadow, Amalie's head started to hurt from the loud screeching noise burning her own ears before she realized it was her own screaming. Her chest heaved and her heart throbbed as if it believed its end was near. She clutched her chest and gasped to end her shriek, staring wide eyed at the corner, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness with no avail. She wanted to run..or move period, but her body was stiff and frozen, the shock leaving her mind in a temporary state of dumbfounded blankness, the darkness of her room refusing to relent as she desperately tried to fight through her shock and make sense of what happened.

It wasn't until after the sound of shifting, accompanied by a small groan from the corner that Amalie broke from her shocked stupor only to scream again, kicking her now working legs against the sheets to push herself farther back along the bed.

A flash of movement from the corner was her only warning before the intruder's cold, soaked hand suddenly shot out swiftly to clamp firmly over her mouth, causing her head to jerk so hard from fear that her neck popped. Amalie sputtered against the his palm, attempting to yank back, only to have his other hand catch the back of her head and hold her still, his low voice shushing her fiercely as if she was a barking dog. She felt the breath from the shushing command fill her ear and the last thing she saw was the ceiling as her eyes rolled up into her head and her thoughts fuzzed into nothing but darkness, her body giving up and falling unconscious.

to be continued!


	2. Do you EVER shut up?

Here is chapter 2! I already have Ch.3 mostly written, just needs a read through and a little added to the end-then I can post that as well. Please review, it honestly is the deciding factor on whether or not I should keep going. And again, sorry for the crazy uneven format.. I just write it as I think it. No real formal set up

Amalie's chest was tight. She was desperately trying to both breathe keep her spit in her mouth through the ghastly sobs and wheezes. She was a complete wreck; her nose running, her cheeks flushed deep red, soaked with tears as her body was rocked with tremors. She hardly noticed her mother's soothing encouragement and coos, her cool fingers wiping away tears and clear mucus as her daughter shuddered and gasped.

"This is RIDICULOUS! There is NOTHING wrong with her; it's all in her head, Nancy! Can you hear me Ams,? It's all in your head! You can breathe, so just breathe!"

Her father's tone was both harsh and desperate. Amalie could only sob harder in reply, his booming voice doing nothing to help her attack. The door bell suddenly rang and her father jumped to his feet with a "Thank God!" before all but running to answer it. With a relieved sigh, Amalie's mother pulled her into a tight hug, uncaring of her gross, soaked face soiling the clean fabric on her shoulder. "Nana's here baby.." Her mother whispered softly, "She'll make it better, like always.."

As if right on cue, the older woman strode in briskly."Hello, my lovely ladies!" Her grandmother's beautifully bright voice broke through Amalie's sobs, happy and carefree as if she had just walked in on them having some iced tea. It was a voice Amalie loved and adored and despite her attack, she managed to lift her head and look up, her mouth gaped open in need for air. Her Nana met her red puffy eyes with a bright but sympathetic smile and immediately took action, her mother stepping aside automatically. "Theeeere we are, Ams" Her nana cooed softly, holding Amalie in a firm but comforting arm while her free hand reached into her giant purse for a random fast food paper bag. "Come on dear, left lift your chin.."

Amalie raised her dizzy head and let out one more sob before her grandmother put the bag over her nose and mouth and began massaging her back in a rough, slow, circular motion. "Breathe in….breathe out…Breathe in…breathe out…there now, love, do it with me…"

The crackly sound of the bag inflating and deflating was shockingly comforting and she began to feel herself slip from the chaos, her breathing becoming easier and easier to steady, sweet air finally hitting her lungs in more fulfilling way.

All the while, her grandmother repeated the soft commands, holding the bag to her face…willing her to take her time with her recovery. Loving her despite the ridiculousness of the situation..

And then...Everything suddenly grew dark.

Without really taking notice of the transition, she was laid out on a soft surface. She didn't know where she was, nor did she feel the need to care. There was no noise around her and her eyes were shut. The vivid flashback had suddenly slipped away and left nothing but her and the presence of her Nana that she simply sensed. She then began to realize she was dreaming…remembering…missing.

"Sing to me nana.." She whispered way too softly, yet she knew her deceased grandmother would still hear her plea.

"Sing that lullaby.."

Her eyes didn't have to open to feel that her Nana was smiling at her. The warmth radiating from the sweet facial expression before she slowly started on the silly little ageless tune, passed down from her mother before her.

"Rings on her fingers

Bells on her toes

Elephants to ride upon

My little Irish rose..

Come to your neighbor's

On next St. Patrick's day

Tooooooooo..Mrs. Mumbo! Jumbo! Jijaboo-Jay!..Ohshay!"

Amalie giggle at the last line which was always sung really fast and loud, yet still flattered by the bell like sounds of her Nana's voice.

She sighed contentedly but kept her eyes shut, fearing the end to this dream.

"Miss you, Nana.." she whispered.

Silence was her only response and her closed eyes squinted from the slow furrowing of her brow.

"Nana…?"

"Wake up, Ams…"

She bit her lip as she shook her head dejectedly.

"No..Please…I don't want to…..Nana..?"

"HEY!"

The last voice was not that of her passed on grandmother and she sharply sucked in two lungs full of air as her eyes shot open to the real world.

The rain was pouring in through her window and lightning was illuminating her room every ten to fifteen seconds, the wind howling so loudly that she could hardly think over it. What… had just happened?

"Oh god…"

She started with a gasp as the memories of the late night infringement flooded her head and caused her to shoot up, only to feel her forehead collide with something equally as hard.

"Ack!" Two voices sounded in unison before Amalie realized someone had been hovering over her in the darkness. Or so she thought as she rubbed away the pain on her forehead. She didn't feel any pressure from his body which shocked her even more.

Hesitantly, she blindly reached out to examine, grasping for answers when a strike of lightning revealed that he was in fact..Floating..

His hand slammed back over her mouth before she once again realized that she had resumed screaming.

"My GOD!" The intruder growled, "don't you ever shut up!"

She whimpered against his hand, trying to replay the flash of his face in her head, but it had been so quick that the only information she could really gather was 'young male'. But a young male what! Ghost? Demon..? She felt her stomach turning, nausea poking and teasing at her.

"Listen!" He whispered harshly, snapping her back out of it.

"I've hurt my leg, lady…help me real quick?"

Amalie was muted confusion, the boy's request going in one ear and out the other only to repeat itself three more times in her head before she finally registered it. Help? Help him..? She breathed in and noticed that he had dropped his hand, his vague outline slowly floating back and her bed shifting beneath his weight as he lowered himself onto it.

"Wh-who are you..?" She stammered, her eyes still furiously straining through the darkness to make out his face. "Peter." He replied nonchalantly, almost as if she should have known that. "Peter Pan."

She could almost hear the thick pride as he said his whole, rather peculiar, name.

"What's yours, lady?"

"Uhh.." She sputtered, her mind still in a state of blankness...And considering the absolute insanity of this situation, it had to be a mental defense mechanism.

"Uhh?" He repeated with a chuckle, "Is there something wrong with your head?"

His was tone a bit patronizing, setting off a string of annoyance through her shock.

"A-Amalie… Amalie Helene.." she stammered, deciding to cut off before her last name.

What made her think she owed him her name anyway? She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled her knees up to her chest, her hand moving over her heart in a pointless attempt to slow it. This had to be a damn..Just HAD to be.

"Do you have a light, Amalie Helene? I can't see my foot.."

She reopened her eyes, lightning once again illuminating his face for a split second. He was definitely young…. And she was absolutely awake.

What the hell…?

"Yes.." She whispered. There was a pause and then the boy sighed. "Well, where is it lady!"

She flinched at his sharp tone before unhurriedly stretching her shaking legs out and sliding them off the side of the bed. Her heart erratic in her chest and she prayed her knees could hold out since they felt similar to gelatin.

As if realizing she was finally going to do something besides shriek, the boy floated off the bed and walked to the window, struggling to shut it, the dim light from outside revealing that he wasn't much larger than her, maybe a couple inches.

Refusing to let him out of her sight, she reached out blindly and felt along the smooth familiar wall of her bedroom, her fingers searching for the light switch and her weary gaze never leaving the boy as he attempted to figure out how to shut the curtains over the re- latched window.

When her fingers brushed the protruding switch she hesitated, taking a deep breath before flicking it up.

Her eyes instantly soaked in all the information they could within seconds, as if making up for the strained and failed attempts to see him through the obscurity of shadows.

The first thing she took in was a head full of soaked blond curls that stopped at the nape of a very tan neck. This followed by a slightly lanky but leanly muscled back beneath two leanly toned shoulders. There appeared to be a band of-leaves?-running diagonally across his back and hooking onto his dark green knee length pants that looked oddly leafy at well. She was focused in on the strange material when he finally turned from the window and her eyes shot back up-not wanting to be caught looking intently at his lower half.

She then noticed the dirt that covered a lot of his evenly golden skin. There was a particularly large streak of mud on his cheek that her eyes flitted over before she really took in his face. She gulped. His eyes were beautiful. More than beautiful. He had a set of thick lashes that sweetly surrounded his large, pale blue-green eyes. They were shaped in an oddly cat-like way, giving him an other-worldly look. He had a straight nose that fit his face flawlessly, lips that were often curved up to sport a sincere look of self satisfaction, and a bit of baby fat lingering in his cheeks. He looked to be about 14 or 15 years old. No older than that, she was certain. Well...kind of...how did he get so muscled. It was shocking...and...  
>She harshly stopped her thoughts right there.<p>

Her eyes began to unwillingly stray back down his chest which, while kind of soft looking in a youthful way, was still leanly muscled all the way down his stomach.

"Ahem!" The boy sounded impatient, the clearing of his throat making her jump while yanking her eyes back to his as intended. She blushed furiously. "Aren't you going to help me with my foot, Amalie Helene-lady?"

She looked down at his foot, her mouth still somewhat gaped. "Oh!"

There was a small pool of blood on her fluffy blue carpet. It was seeping slowly from a nasty cut along the ball of the boy's ankle. Not only did the cut look pretty dreadful, but the ankle itself was swollen, and he was standing on it as if it was a foot entirely fit for running.

"Oh God…uh..j-just sit down..right there.." She stammered, pointing to her desk chair. "I'll go get something.."

She swung around and rushed into the bathroom, willing herself not to endeavor to figure out what was going on. It was so much easier if she just stopped thinking. She instead focused on the task at hand, having no real experience with bad cuts or how to mend them; she could only assume that some peroxide, towels, and gauze would work. She grabbed some Tylenol as well, and her water glass, before walking briskly back into her room.


	3. Little Snot!

**Thank you for my reviews! I'm sorry if it seems like things are going a little slow, but I promise they will pick up. I'm trying to keep my OC's reaction and adjustment time as real as possible and that takes a bit of time but we're getting there! I just feel like it'd take more than ten minutes for a girl to be like "OH TAKE ME WITH YOUUU" ...And whats a good story without a solid starting point?**

**Read and Review please! I always feel more tempted to write and get chapters up faster when I find new reviews on it! Good or bad, they both drive me.**

**Disclaimer: 'I don't, so don't' (Saw that line on another fan fic-that I unfortunately can't remember-and laughed my butt off! Anyway, their point is clear, thank you J.M.B. for creating these lovely characters for me to play with!)  
><strong>

The boy—Peter?—was waiting impatiently in the chair, all the articles on her desk blatantly out of line from his ruffling through them in curiosity.

She padded over to him and fell to her knees, squinting at the cut to see if there was anything lodged inside. It appeared fairly clean. "Th-this might burn, okay..?"

He shrugged and boldly folded his arms across his chest; his chin slightly lifted in an arrogant manner as he peered down at her expectantly. She took a deep calming breath, and then laid one of the towels under his injured foot before opening up the brown bottle of peroxide. She decided it would be easier to just pour it over the cut rather than bother trying to clean it in detail and risk any additional pain. When she started the stream of liquid, the cut immediately fizzed and she heard the boy suck in a sharp breath, his face trying to remain uniform but still flushing pink, his cheeks puffing slightly as he chewed his inner lip. She nervously bit her own lip and patted the wound dry gently, slowly rubbing away some of the grime along the swollen flesh, the bright shades of golden skin released from the dirt coming off as quite a shock.

"Wow….You really could use a bath, boy" She laughed nervously.

Peter suddenly yanked his foot back from her care, despite the pain of the movement.

"Boy…?" He leaned over and pierced her with a stubborn gaze. "I'm Peter! The Pan! So call me Peter Pan…Not 'boy'..!" He acted as though she had called him revolting and overweight.

She threw him a perplexed look, a little too shocked to be offended. "But..You call me lady..?"

"Because that's what you are!"

"And you're not a boy?"

"Of course I am, but first and foremost I'm the Pan!"

"The Pan….." She sounded extremely lost, but also dismissive, not really wanting to argue with a flying boy-intruder bearing a bloody wound. She reclaimed his swollen foot and wrapped his injury as best she could, cushioning the cut itself beneath a few layers of soft tissue before finishing off with the stretchy gauze.

"There.." She stated, leaning back up to examine her work. "This will have to do."

She twisted around and grabbed her Tylenol and the small glass of water. "Take a couple of these to help the swelling—" She was cut off but him lunging from the chair only to thud against her ceiling and glare down at her in alarm. "There is no way you're going to catch me and make me take that…medicine…"

Amalie was baffled; his flying still a bit too shocking for her to wrap her mind around while also trying to make sense of what had upset him.

"Uhh…okay…?" was all she could really manage, while casting a stupefied gawk up at him, his eyes dark and ruthless in return.

She set the pills and water on the desk and made a show of pushing them away. "I wasn't planning on.._Forcing _you.."

At that last remark, Peter's face changed and he slowly lowered himself back to her carpet, landing less than a foot from her front and pinning her in place with his hardened, intense gaze; his shoulders notably broadening in an attempt to look dominant.

"Force..?"

He laughed out that word in a lower, husky, voice, his breath hitting her forehead and adding to her already 'deer in headlight' state as she stared wide eyed up at him, a mix of stunned submission and wonder invading her mind.

This kid was frightening, and odd, and beautiful..

"W-what..?" She whispered through her clouded thoughts after realizing he had continued his speech.

"I said I'd laugh my way into an office to grow up before I allow myself to be forced into anything, especially by a _girl_...who's almost old." He added a bit more nastily at the end.

Amalie blinked then, reconsidering his deceiving age if he honestly found her old. She couldn't have been more than a year or two older. And wait, had he just insulted her? After _breaking_ into her room and forcing her to give him medical aid? The little, dirty, snot!

Broken from her stupor caused by both fear and his icy enchanting gaze, she quickly grew venomous.

"I'm nowhere near old, you little brat, and I just HELPED you despite your illegal intrusion and despite MY gender!"

The loudness and animosity in her voice startled her but Peter smirked, outwardly excited by her angry burst and ready to lash back when a flash of light caught him off guard, whizzing past his face and yanking Amalie back by her hair. Amalie who hardly had time to register what the heck had just happened let out a yelp in pain, feeling her toes nearly leave the carpet as she was flung backwards into her purple wall with a painful thud.

"Tink! Stop!" Peter shouted over Amalie's cries as the ball of light once again grabbed Amalie's hair and attempted to drag her up along the wall.

Through glazed eyes, Amalie watched as Peter flew at her, only to slam an open palm against the wall near her cheek, and bat his other hand upwards, smacking the horrible ball of light towards her bed.

His harsh gaze followed the glittery trail for one second before he snapped his eyes back to her, causing her to flinch.

"Are you okay..? He whispered breathlessly, his hand gently snaking its fingers beneath the back of her now pounding head and pulling it slowly from the drywall. She was sure could feel the lump stretch from her scalp and she groaned.

"What… the hell..!" She demanded, Peter's face blurring behind a thick coat of fresh tears that invaded her eyes.

"Tinkerbell.." He replied through a nervous chuckle as the shimmering creature approached again, slowly this time. "She doesn't tend to…like girls" His voice seemed to lower a bit on the last two words.

"She…?" Amalie blinked her tears away and fixed her eyes on the mysterious light that slowly rose from behind Peter's shoulder.

"My fairy. " He answered easily, flicking a smile at the ball of light, his face already holding a look of forgiveness as the thing tinkled softly at him.

Upon letting her eyes focus, Amalie began to realize the ball of light had shape…a human one. "Fairy.." She whispered. "Oh…my.."

"She is rather rude, but my oldest and truest friend."

Amalie brought her wide eyes back to the boy, only then noticing how close he was; how close him and his little 'fairy' creature both were. With a sharp intake of breath she quickly pulled away, Peter allowing her head to slip away from his fingers.

"This…This is insane"

"Only to grown ups." Peter replied with a smirk.

"I'm not a grown up! I'm…a teenager…"

"No.." Peter shook his head. "There's only one line you cross to grow up. And I think you're almost there, if not already."

"Wh-what?" Amalie was tired of feeling so confused; her head still pounding from the impact with the wall as well as the attempt to keep herself from falling unconscious through all of this insanity.

"Not that it matters," Peter said, more to himself as he pulled away from her crumpled form and stood up, wincing from the pain of his ankle. "You're a girl...and I have no interest in getting mixed up with one of _those _again.."

Amalie decided to relinquish her attempt to understand and blurted out in frustration, "Then why are you here!"

At that, Peter, who was unmoved by her desperate tone, looked back down at her and grinned brilliantly, his whole face lit up with purpose.

"SCAVANGING!"

He lifted himself into the air and hovered to the corner of her room where he had landed about an hour earlier, pointing down to a raggedy duffel bag that she had failed to notice all this time.

"My second in command came up with—well, _**I**_ came up with—he just helped spark the idea that we visit the wealthier houses of this world, and nip things we need! Like candy, books, clothes, soap and other stuff we can't find on the island."

Amalie's snort at the word "Soap" went unnoticed by the flying boy as he placed his fists on his hips and continued with his explanation.

"I haven't finished getting what I came for, but the storm became so rough that I hit…something…I think a poll of some sort, it made me dizzy and I kind of…crashed in here…cut my foot on your ugly metal rail outside your window." He threw a nasty look at her curtained window before returning to his consistent leer that he appeared to have trained his face to default to and leaned over to grab the grubby bag.

"I suppose I'll wait for the storm to calm before I leave—Tink! Tell Michael I'll be running behind and to make sure he keeps the rest of the boys in line while I'm away! Especially the new twins, I don't want to have to change hideouts again because they can't keep their mouths shut."

The fairy seemed irritated by this command, eliciting loud tinkling sounds and flinging her shimmering dust all around her.

"Let it go, Tink! And get moving, I won't argue with you!" Peter puffed his tan chest out as if to substantiate his authority.

The now reddening fairy yanked roughly at his hair and flew to the window, the room once again growing loud from the storm as she disappeared into the night, uncaring to shut it behind her.

Peter walked to the window and slammed it back shut, not bothering with the curtains this time. He then walked over to his bag and emptied the contents onto her rug.

There were at least fifteen new toothbrushes, quite a few large rubber bands, a bag of Hershey kisses, bouncy balls, silly putty, colored chalk, rubbing alcohol, and a random hat that Peter grabbed and pulled over his blond curls before walking to the wall mirror on the back of her door.

Amalie, who was still frozen against the wall, her mind buzzing over his explanation and wondering what island he came from that would be anywhere near here, only watched as he examined his reflection. He made a noise of distaste and removed the hat from his head only to fling it somewhere random in her room before finally deciding to take notice of her again. He rubbed his stomach and plopped down in front of her with a childish grin.

"Have you got anything to eat, Amalie Helene?"


	4. One more scream, to end the night with

**Hello, I recently had twins, who are now 6 months old! I've created a schedule that will let me get back into writing. If you want to read this rough, but still updated chapter, feel free. I will probably go back in and edit it tomorrow. I am also editing/tweaking the AWFUL chapters before this. Have a good night! (It is 4 AM here) **

**PS**  
><strong>This is a short one-but I wrote it in a very short period of time. It was meant to get me back into the mode. Everything is now cooking in my head.<strong>

Amalie stirred the pot of beef Ramen in a flushed daze. Her mind had long since stopped trying to make sense of this night and had resorted to putting her into a hazy state of 'auto-pilot.' Although, an incident earlier in the bathroom was insistent on popping back into her head and humiliating her to the point of mental instability.

She had convinced Peter to shower after noticing, with frustration, the grime he had left throughout her lavender carpet. There was no way she would let him venture through the rest of the house, that dirty, and risk further evidence of his presence to her parents. He readily agreed to do so in exchange for dinner, though it became pretty clear that it was more because of his chilldlike curiosity about the shower itself.

It wasn't exactly hard to help him figure out how to work the shower, but he had seemed absolutely thrilled that her house somehow held an 'indoor waterfall' that was not only the perfect size, but felt like it had 'passed through the sun.'

"Oh, well, It's just because of the water heater..." She had mumbled, awkwardly. "You know, it's like a big tank...it is full of water...and...and has a heating element..."

She knew her speech ability had been lacking at that point, but in her defense, Peter had stopped listening to her anyway-busy examining the bath products lined up in the shower caddy.

While letting the shower heat up, Amalie had bent to retrieve a towel from beneath the sink, as well as a new bar of soap, feeling he'd probably need a whole bar for himself with all that caked on filth.  
>When she had turned back to him, she ended up dropping it all on the floor and eliciting a high pitched yelp.<p>

Peter had not only entered the shower without waiting for her to leave, but was completely nude.

He was also hard at work trying to figure out the mysterious use of a bright pink shaving razor that Amalie had kept attached to its dock on the shower wall.

"Agh, GOD!" She cried, and flung the curtain closed before running out and leaving his soap and towel on the bathroom carpet.

The memory burned through her like an unpleasant shot of liqueur and Amalie swallowed thickly.  
>She was thankful that her eyes had automatically forced themselves to lose focus the second she noted a severe lack of 'leaf' on him. It was going to be hard enough to face him again without a sharp picture of his nether regions forever burned in her retina.<p>

Thankfully, the strange boy hadn't seemed to notice his own slip up, nor her reaction to it.

The misty heat from the pot was making it difficult to breathe and her cheeks were completely flamed as well. Or so she let herself think. She didn't dare move out of the steam's path for fear of coming to realization about what was actually hindering her breathing and flushing her cheeks. She shook her head. "Christ, Amalie.." She whispered to herself before stirring the noodles even harder.

At the sound of footsteps descending the stairs, she froze. Her heart had steadily been racing since his grand entrance, and showed no signs of slowing any time soon. Even without the stress of trying to rationalize the situation, she felt like she was going to pass out any second from the weight of it all.

It was an absolute miracle that she hadn't had an episode yet... The medication must be doing its job.

Peter entered the kitchen, oblivious to how stiff and nervous the young girl was. His mind seemed to be completely focused on the smell of beef Ramen.

He closed in behind her and she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath as he inhaled gratefully over her shoulder.

"Mmmm! Is it done? What is it?"

Amalie resisted the urge to look back at him, afraid that he may not have felt the need to redress himself. He clearly felt no shame from nudity and had no concept of personal space.

When it was evident that he wasn't going to get a reply from her, Peter helped himself to the large spoon she was stirring with and shoved her over with his side. The sound of leaves at his hip was a huge relief, and she finally released her breath before taking in oxygen again, rather harshly. He was dressed. Thank God.

"Agh, dammit.." Peter cursed, causing Amalie to startle. He had burnt his mouth trying to eat them right from the pot.

"Oh! Sorry.. just a second, Peter" She stuttered.

Saying his name aloud was just a little startling to her-or was it almost thrilling?

She stumbled across the kitchen, still avoiding the urge look at him, and grabbed some bowls from the cupboard.

"Amalie Helene, why on earth did you make this so damn hot?!"

There was irritation in Peter's tone, as if it had all been some trick. If she wasn't so out of it, she probably would have rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"You are supposed to let it cool off."

She brought the bowls and utensils to the small kitchen table that was primarily used to hold fruit bowls and groceries. She shoved some things out of the way and pulled out the two bar stools from beneath it.

"Can you bring the pot over here? Careful, just grab it by that black handle."

Peter slowly moved the steaming pot to the table, and the smell of her conditioner wafted from his skin as he drew near, setting the noodles down rather half hazardly.

The smell sparked the last bit of curiosity needed to allow herself another look at him, so she slowly lifted her gaze to his face.

He was staring with anticipation at the noodles as if willing them to cool down faster.

He appeared to have thoroughly cleaned himself, even if he did mistakenly use conditioner, and his hair was damply curled. It must have been nearly two shades lighter than when she had first seen it.

Small droplets clung to the hairline at his nape and she watched one as it trickled down the length of his neck, which seemed oddly lean and adult for the youthful face he had.

The droplet made its way to his collar bone and she forced her eyes away with a confusing shiver.

Her stomach knotted. It seemed like the more she looked at him, the more unearthly attractive he became to her.

**_That_** was frightening.

Firstly, she was still confused about how old he was. His face was so youthful and pretty, practically chiseled to perfection and full of innocence, yet the rest of him was lean and muscled beyond that of your average young boy-while still a bit lanky. He was quite a bit taller than her, but that was not saying much since she didn't even reach what was considered the average female height.

Secondly, not knowing who he was wasn't nearly as unsettling as not know WHAT he was.

She stopped her train of thought right there-She was still not even close to being ready to rationalize anything.

As soon as their food cooled, they began to eat. Well, Peter ate-Amalie spent most of the meal picking at a noodle stuck to the edge of her bowl.

When Peter caught on to her lack of appetite, he felt free to help himself to her ramen as well.

By this point, her mind was running out of mental fog to block out the need to understand everything. She began to fiddle with the end of her shorts and struggled with the idea of starting to speak to him again. He was easily content to eat in comfortable (for him) silence.

He ate his food with all of the focused passion of a wild cat, completely and utterly bent on eating it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

His mouth was... _No._..**stop** looking at his mouth! Her stomach clenched again._ What is wrong with me..._

A siren from outside made them both jump. There must have been an accident nearby, probably caused by the vicious storm. Amalie shook her head and took a deep breath before asking him the most pressing question at hand before her courage failed again.

"Peter...How did you, back there...I mean, upstairs.." She motioned jerkily behind her, "How did you..fly?"  
>Peter swallowed a king's size bite of ramen and lazily dragged his gaze to hers. Her heart had doubled its already quick pace, and her inability to create functioning sentences was not helping matters.<p>

At her obvious discomfort of sorts, his face took on a look of amusement before suddenly darkening into a look of... disappointment? He seemed to be having hard time deciding something before he finally replied with a simple shrug, continuing to eat.

Amalie's mouth gaped open, and before she knew it, anger was seeping back into her.

"What does that mean? You don't know how you can fly? Or you just don't care to tell me because 'I am a girl and I'm old'"

She expected Peter to meet her snapping remark with one equally as sharp, but instead, he looked up at her again with a weary look.

"I just can't tell you. That is all. It's complicated"

Amalie lost her heat quickly and went back to staring at her bowl before replying again. It was hard for her to press on with his piercing eyes giving her tunnel vision.

"Is it your fairy..?"

Peter let out a sigh. "Just don't worry about it, Amalie Helene, nothing good will come of me letting another girl in on the secret."

He seemed smaller and less arrogant for the first time since she had met him. He may have even sounded regretful. It almost made her concerned, but she was losing her nerve and had to press on. She was also still stung by the thought of her gender once again downgrading her as a person in his eye.

"It's AMALIE...Just Amalie" She snapped.

"But you said-"

"Just. Amalie."

With that Amalie snatched up her bowl as well as his and, ignoring his complaint of not being finished yet, and tossed them into the empty sink with a loud _clank_.

"It was nice to meet you, Peter, but my parents will be home soon and if you are unwilling to explain yourself, I really think you should leave."

Peter froze for a moment, realizing that he had made her angry and tried to speak again, but she just cut him off.

"Really, you need to go. Please."

Amalie could feel his stare burn into her back and there was a long silence before Peter sighed, heading for the stairs.

Amalie's heart pounded even harder and internally, she realized she was throwing out a completely supernatural boy who had the ability to change her views on every single thing she had ever believed in. But she was stubborn. He had already shamed her enough, making her feel like a swoony preteen who had just cooked Ramen for a hot celebrity.

Not many moments later, she heard her bedroom window open and slam shut, and she knew he was gone. She stood there, mind blank, seconds dragging by as her breathing finally began to slow and her heart began to feel heavy.

"Stupid.." She breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.

_Bang Bang Bang!_

Amalie jumped at the sound, and spun around, her eyes shooting to the door where the noise had blasted from. _He's back! _She bolted to the door, not understanding why she was suddenly filled with thrill, and unlocked it. When she yanked it open, it was not the beautiful face she had expected. It was...and officer. Two of them. _What the.._

"Excuse me, ma'am, but do you happen to be Amalie Bachman?"  
>"Uh.. Yes?" She furrowed her brow, her eyes flitting around behind them to try and pick out what may have brought them here. All she could see was flashing lights down the streets-Probably from the likely accide-THE ACCIDENT!<br>Every drop of blood in Amalie's veins froze, and the officer closest to her laid a hand on her shoulder, preparing to tell her what she already knew.

"Miss Bachman... I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your parents were in a accident. A head on collision, hydroplaned."  
>She needed a bag. Her chest was heaving, she couldn't get enough air.<br>"It could have been a while before we tracked them back to you, but fortunately, one of your neighbors were able to identify both bodies"  
>"B-bodies...?"<br>The officer seemed to suddenly remember himself, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.  
>"Yes ma'am... I'm so sorry... They were killed on impact."<p>

Once again, the rainy night was pierced with another one of Amalie Bachman's ear-splitting screams.


End file.
